Scenes From a Lab
by mammothluv
Summary: Trapped in Jerry's lab, Anna and Robert bicker about subjects ranging from who gets the pleasure of killing Jerry to who has the better escape plan.


**Day 3**

"You know, I can take your murderous glances. I've grown to love them over the years. It's the silence that will eventually drive me mad," Robert announces, his voice seeming altogether too loud in the previously quiet room.

Anna shoots him one of the aforementioned murderous glances in response.

"Come on, luv. There's not room enough in this lab for you, me, and the not-so-dead ghost of Julian Jerome and it doesn't look like you or I are getting out anytime soon."

Rather than answer him, Anna busies herself by opening a drawer that she's already gone through at least five times in the days they've spent here. It kills her that it's days now, multiple. They got so close to Robin. Now they're stuck here in this place where Anna can feel her everywhere but has no way to reach her.

"By all means," Robert says gesturing at the drawer Anna is currently rummaging through. "I'm certain the tenth time will be a charm. Who knows what wonders you'll find in there."

Anna slams the drawer shut and marches to the corner of the room which is furthest away from Robert. It's still not nearly far enough. She leans against the wall and crosses her arms, glaring in his direction.

Duke is in Port Charles getting more and more tangled in whatever web Julian is weaving and Anna's just as helpless to stop it as she is to save Robin. .

_Robin._ Anna has no idea where her daughter is now.

She has no doubt she could get it out of Jerry given time and perhaps a gun… a knife… a few rusty nails…

"What, my dear, is putting that wicked little grin on your face?" Robert's question interrupts Anna's creative visualization of Jerry's suffering and returns her to her foul mood.

"Nothing you need to concern yourself with," she replies, her tone icy.

Her entire body twitches with the need to move, to act.

In the absence of that, maybe she needs Robert to say something, anything that will ease the sting of betrayal. But she'll be damned if she's going to ask for it.

Across the room he sighs. Anna waits.

"Maybe it was a mistake," he says finally. He lifts a hand to scrub at his face in frustration. "I didn't have a lot of options, Anna. The WSB was going to do what the WSB was going to do and I was left with…" He gestures at her helplessly.

"Me. You were left with me. After all the Jeromes did to me, to Duke, to Robin…" Her voice catches on their daughter's name and she slams her fists back against the wall. The resulting loud noise earns a start from Robert. "I deserved the truth, Robert. You had it and you kept it from me all these years."

"You deserved to know." There's defeat in his tone. When he looks up at her again, she sees a weariness she recognizes all too well in his eyes. She wears it too, the kind of exhaustion that comes from a lifetime of tough decisions that most people would never dream of having to make.

"You'd grieved your husband and gotten him back only to, you thought, lose him again. And the Jeromes… they had such power over you. You nearly lost yourself going after Olivia, Anna."

He pauses, as if considering his next words carefully.

"I almost lost you," he adds.

"I made the choice that I thought would give you the best chance of getting through losing Duke and, selfishly, the one I knew would keep you with me and Robin. You'd have gone after Julian, killed him yourself or gotten killed… or maybe I could have talked you out of it and then the knowledge… knowing he was alive and Duke was dead, it would have tormented you. I wasn't prepared to let either of those things happen."

Anna lets herself slide down the wall until she's sitting cross-legged on the floor. She regards Robert quietly but not unkindly. The fight has left her. She'd been prepared to pepper him with questions about the intervening years, why he didn't tell her after she'd had a chance to grieve Duke again. But there is a truth in his words she cannot deny - knowledge of Julian's survival could easily have consumed her.

Forgiveness has not always come easy between them but it's always been a given nonetheless. Maybe, under other circumstances, she'd hang onto her hurt a little while longer but they have their daughter to worry about now.

"Truce," she says finally. "But we're going to need an escape plan because Robin needs us and then you are responsible for helping me clean up this Jerome mess in Port Charles. Besides, I'm certain, if we stay here much longer, I'll find other reasons to want to murder you."

His smile in response - wide and genuine - makes her feel better than she has in days.

**Day 4**

"If I have to wear this shirt one more day," Anna complains, picking at the fabric of the offending shirt and sniffing to confirm that, yes, she really does stink.

"If I have to look at you in that shirt for one more day."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she demands, her head whipping around until her eyes settle on Robert who is currently sprawled upon and hogging the room's only cot as Anna perches on the desk between bouts of pacing.

"It's not _supposed_ to mean anything," Robert intones. His eyes remain fixed on a spot on the ceiling even as he talks to her. It's as if he's making a point of averting his eyes. "You're tired of wearing the thing. I'm tired of looking at you in it."

"This is a perfectly nice shirt," Anna objects, despite the fact she was contemplating burning it just moments ago.

"It was a nice shirt. On day one. Day two. Even on day three I didn't mind it. But now, Anna, now…" He shakes his head as if at a loss for words.

Anna considers briefly offering to take the shirt off if he finds it so offensive. The problem with Robert is he's just as likely to take her up on the offer as he is to feign upset at the mere suggestion. Under other circumstances, Anna might relish the uncertainty - he's one of the few people in this world who can still surprise her - but they're on day four in an enclosed space and arguing feels much safer than other possibilities.

His complaint about the shirt is a way of passing the time. She knows it isn't genuine because she's felt his eyes on her, turned in the midst of their examination of the lab and its contents to catch his gaze tracing the lines of her body.

Robert has a way of looking at her like the universe is just the two of them. It's unnerving how easily she can feel the spark it lights - always in danger of burning out of control - somewhere just under her ribcage. It's tempting now - more so than usual - to just let go, to be consumed by him instead of the hopelessness that presses in on her more each day.

She shakes her head, directs her gaze anywhere but him. She can't afford to think that way now. She certainly can't let him know she's thinking that.

"You're not such a treat to look at either," she volleys back instead. Though, honestly, he does look good, rumpled but good.

He sits up a that, shoots her a wounded glance that's ten percent real offense and ninety percent pure Scorpio dramatic flair. Anna feels a twinge of satisfaction.

"I just got out of the hospital," he protests. "I wore what Mac brought me."

"Well remind me to complain to Mac when we get out of here then." The words come without thought but the mention of their captivity snaps her back to the reality of their situation and Anna wishes she'd held onto the comfortable back and forth a little while longer.

Robert must sense the shift in mood. He pushes himself up from the cot, makes his way over to the desk. He uses his entire body - his side against hers - and nudges her over so he can perch next to her on the desk.

His body heat, the familiarity of him against her, soothes her if only slightly. Then, of course, he ruins the moment.

He sniffs in an exaggerated manner.

"And you smell," he declares, making a show of waving at the air in front of them.

"You smell worse," she retorts, a small smile playing at her lips despite the fact that she swears she can feel the walls of this damn room closing in on them.

"Impossible," Robert replies.

**Day 5**

"That's a dumb plan, Robert."

"It is not a dumb plan. It's a brilliant plan. It's so brilliant in part because its brilliance is not obvious. They're expecting us to come up with a brilliant plan but what they aren't expecting is this which makes it brilliant but not in a way our captors will realize is brilliant making it therefore the most brilliant of all…" Robert pauses here and lowers his voice to a whisper, leaning in toward her as he adds, "...but secretly."

He bounces a little on his tiptoes with excitement. Anna's always both admired and dreaded his ability to convince himself that even the most foolhardy of his plans have some hidden nugget of intelligence within them.

She rolls her eyes and crinkles her nose to indicate her distaste for his idea as well as his nonsensical defense of said idea.

Things had been going so well - as well as they could when one was stuck in the midst of a hostage situation, at any rate.

There were showers. Finally blessed showers and new clothes - they're each in a clean white shirt and grey sweatpants. The whole ordeal was conducted one at a time with an armed guard on each of them and the very clear threat that the other would die the minute one of them tried to escape. Still, the warm water and the fresh clothes had given Anna a renewed sense of hope and calm.

That was before she'd come back and been confronted with Robert's completely asinine escape strategy.

"That is possibly the most idiotic scheme - in a thirty-plus year history rife with idiotic schemes - that you have ever come up with," she tells him. "And I'm not doing it. My wrist still hurts from this morning's failed escape attempt," she reminds him, rubbing the injured wrist to emphasize her point.

"Oh, pardon me," Robert replies. "I didn't realize you were in such delicate shape."

"I'm in better shape than you," she scoffs.

"I've been in a coma for nearly a year. That's a pretty low bar you're setting for yourself there. Were I in my top condition..."

"Oh, enough with the coma excuse," Anna mutters. "Anyhow, I'd still be in better shape than you. Always have been."

Robert opens his mouth as if to protest but Anna puts a finger to his lips to quiet him when she picks up the sound of someone at the door. It's likely one of Jerry's guards on his way in with food.

"Fine," Anna whispers to Robert. "We'll try it. But, if this doesn't work -and I'm dreadfully certain it won't - I'm in charge of the next plan."

**Day 7**

"Sweetheart," Robert says to Anna, his voice steady despite the growing urgency of their situation. "When the tables turn, I want you to promise you'll let me kill him."

The him in question is Jerry Jacks who stands before them backed by two armed guards. The guards frustrate Anna but the fact that their near successful escape attempt yesterday has Jacks spooked enough to feel he needs the backing of two heavily armed men gives her the smallest amount of satisfaction.

The satisfaction ebbs quickly. An almost escape does them no good, nor do five almost escapes, as proven by their current predicament.

"I'm afraid I can't allow you to do that, dear. I've been so looking forward to shooting him myself," Anna responds, her eyes on Jacks as she speaks. She wants him to know the truth of her words. She does not kill lightly but she will end his life without hesitation should it be necessary to facilitate their escape, to get to their daughter.

Anna has dreamed of it, in fact, in the sparse moments of fitful sleep she's managed in this god awful room. She's felt her finger on the trigger, the kick-back as the shot fired. She's seen the blood spread from the entry wound as her bullet found its mark, watched the last scrap of sentience leave his eyes. She wants that for the man who tortured their daughter, kept Robin from them and from Emma and Patrick.

The dreams that truly torture Anna, though, are those of Robin. Anna feels the steady pressure of Robin's arms around her shoulders, leans down to press a kiss to Robin's forehead. Then Anna wakes and it all dissipates like so much smoke.

"This is big talk for two people who have been my prisoners for a week now," Jerry says, interrupting Anna's thoughts, his voice dripping with a condescension that makes Anna's skin prickle. Anna loathes him for that and for the fact that he still stands between Anna and Robert and their daughter.

Anna steps toward Jerry. She should care more about the way the guards bristle, move toward her, guns aimed at her heart. Out of the corner of her eye she sees Robert move with her, ever ready to jump to her aid.

"We won't be your prisoners forever, Jerry. And I promise you…" Anna stops her advance on Jerry, sensing she's pushed the guards to their limit. "When you are at our mercy."

Jerry smirks. "Never going to happen."

"When you are at our mercy," she repeats. "I. Will. Make. You. Suffer."

"Well," Jerry enthuses, his smile bright. "This has been a delight but I'm going to take my leave of you now. You two have fun in here." He punctuates the statement with a cheerful wave in their direction.

Anna's body thrums with energy, with anger. It is only Robert's hand on her shoulder that keeps her from launching herself at Jerry, armed guards be damned.

Once the door closes and they're alone again, Anna whirls to face Robert. He doesn't shrink away from the rage that is evident on her face, in the taut lines of her body. His hand remains on her shoulder and his eyes do not leave hers as she takes several deep breaths in an attempt to push her anger back down. It will be useful later but not now.

She walks away, paces the room as Robert stands rooted in place. It's several minutes before he disturbs the silence by speaking.

"I truly feel we need to settle this disagreement, Anna."

"What disagreement?" she asks sharply. She turns her attention to him and leans against the wall. They've had arguments too numerous to list in the past several days but, as far as she can recall, none that deserve resurrecting.

"Who gets the pleasure of killing Jacks," Robert replies in a teasing tone he used on her often when they were married. "Do we flip a coin?" he continues.

When they were married, he'd once confessed to laying the boyish charm on thick when he found the need to "calm her inner beast." She'd smacked him for it then, resenting the implication she needed to be tamed despite the fact she often pulled similar tricks on him. But tonight she's willing to forgive his obvious diversion in favor of embracing the distraction.

"Maybe a firing squad," she suggests. "You and me, two guns but only one has live ammunition."

Robert purses his lips pretending to consider the offer.

"I do feel you ought to let me take this one, Annie. You're Commissioner of Police after all. It wouldn't be proper, you participating in a firing squad."

His words bring a memory to the front of her mind and Anna laughs.

"What?" Robert demands.

"I'm recalling how concerned you were about my improper dealings when you were commissioner," she reminds him. "How the tables have turned."

"I was an officer of the law," he exclaims, all feigned outrage. "And on our honeymoon, of all times, I find out you've got a storage unit full of hot goods!"

"Oh, hush. You loved the excitement." Anna waves her hand as she speaks to dismiss his objections.

"I loved _you,_" he corrects. "Still do." The words tumble out of his mouth easily. It's not a confession but a statement of fact - an always that is theirs alone. Anna is not surprised by how much she still needs it.

She is, however, taken aback by the realization that follows. It's Robert, just as much as Robin, that's been missing from her this past year, upset her balance and made her feel less than herself. When she clawed for steady ground these past months, never seeming to find purchase, it was both of them she was reaching for.

She tucks the thought away to be dealt with when they're somewhere far from Cassadine Island.

"Fine," she says, following her words with an exaggerated sigh. "You can kill him but I'm getting in a few good punches first."

"And maybe one of those high kicks?" Robert asks hopefully. "I so enjoy watching you do those."

**Night 7**

"This is ridiculous," she'd said moments ago as she watched Robert struggle to find a comfortable sleeping position in the desk chair only to have the chair spin and his legs fly out from under him sending him slamming into the desk.

"Regardless of how enjoyable it is to watch you flail about on that thing, I am not prepared to watch you die at the hands of a rolling chair after all we've been through," she'd deadpanned, patting the cot in invitation.

That's how they ended up sharing this one person cot, her body draped over his and her head against his chest. And despite the uncertainty of tomorrow - tomorrow they try her plan and they escape or they die trying - the rhythm of his drumming heartbeat feels like home to her.

She thinks sleepily that - if they survive this - once they've hugged their daughter again and ensured her continued safety, she and Robert need to have a serious talk as do she and Duke. But, for tonight, she curls her hand around Robert's shoulder and matches her breath with his own.

Robert's hand rests on her back, rubbing lazy circles there and lulling her into relaxation.

"Goodnight, luv," he exhales.

Tomorrow they escape or die trying. Anna's putting her money on escape. The two of them together have always been a good bet.


End file.
